1903
SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM
(Inscribed to the revered Memory of Thomas Henrey Huxley.)
I.
THE purpose of this essay is to draw a strict
comparison between the modern scien-
tific conceptions of Phenomena and their
explanation, where such exists, and the
ancient ideas of the Buddhists; to show that
Buddhism, alike in theory and practice, is a
scientific religion; a logical superstructure on
a basis of experimentally verifiable truth ;
and that its method is identical with that of
science. We must resolutely exclude the
accidental features of both, especially of
Buddhism; and unfortunately in both cases
we have to deal with dishonest and shame-
less attempts to foist on either opinions for
which neither is willing to stand sponser.
Professer Huxley has dealt with one in his
“Pseudo-Scientific Realism”; Professer
Rhys Davids has demolished the other in that
one biting comment on “Esoteric Buddhism”
that it was “not Esoteric and certainly not
Buddhism.” But some of the Theosophic
mud still sticks to the Buddhist chariot; and
there are still people who believe that sane
science has at least a friendly greeting for
Atheism and Materialism in their grosser
and more militant forms.
Let it be understood then, from the outset,
that if in Science I include metaphysics, and
in Buddhism meditation-practices, I lend
myself neither to the whittlers or “recon-
cilers” on the one hand, nor to the Animistic
jugglers on the other. Apart from the
Theosophic rubbish, we find Sir Edwin
Arnold writing:
“Whoever saith Nirvana is to cease,
Say unto such they lie.”
84
Lie is a strong word and should read
“translate correctly.”1
I suppose it would not scan, nor rhyme:
but Sir Edwin is the last person to be
deterred by a little thing like that.
Dr. Paul Carus, too, in the “Gospel of
Buddha,” is pleased to represent Nirvana as
a parallel for the Heaven of the Christian.
It is sufficient if I reiterate the unanimous
opinion of competent scholars, that there is
no fragment of evidence in any canonical book
sufficient to establish such interpretations
in the teeth of Buddhist tradition and practice ;
and that any person who persists in tuning
Buddhism to his own Jew’s harp in this way
is risking his reputation, either for scholar-
ship or good faith. Scientific men are
common enough in the West, if Buddhists
are not; and I may safely leave in their
hands the task of castigating the sneak-thieves
of the Physical area.
II.
The essential features of Bhuddism have
been summed up by the Buddha himself.
To me, of course, what the Buddha said
or did not say is immaterial; a thing is
true or not true, whoever said it. We
believe Mr. Savage Landor when he affirms
that Lhassa is an important town in Tibet.
Where only probabilities are concerned we
are of course influenced by the moral char-
1
See Childers, Pali Dictionary, s.v. Nibbana.
 SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM
acter and mental attainments of the speaker,
but here I have nothing to do with what is
uncertain.1
There is an excellent test for the value of
any passage in a Buddhist book. We are, I
think, justified in discarding passages
which are clearly Oriental fiction, just as
modern criticism, however secretly Theistic,
discards the Story of Hasisadra or of Noah.
In justice to Buddhism, let us not charge
its Scripture with the Sisyphean task of
seriously upholding the literal interpreta-
tion of obviously fantastic passages.2 May
our Buddhist zealots be warned by the fate
of old-fashioned English orthodoxy! But
when Buddhism condescends to be vulgarly
scientific; to observe, to classify, to think ;
I conceive we may take the matter seriously,
and accord a reasonable investigation to its
assertions. Examples of such succinctness
and clarity may be found in The Four
Noble Truths ; The Three Characteristics ;
The Ten Fetters; and there is clearly a
definite theory in the idea of Karma. Such
ideas are basic, and are as a thread on which
1 See Huxley’s classical example of the horse,
zebra and centaur.
2
Similarly, where Buddhist parables are of a
mystical nature, where a complicated
symbolism of numbers (for example) is
intended to shadow a truth, we must discard
them. My experience of mysticism is somewhat
large; its final dictum is that the parable x may
be equated to a, b, c, d . . . z by six-and-twenty
different persons, or by one person in six-and-
twenty different moods. Even had we a strong
traditional explanation I should maintain my
position. The weapons of the Higher Criticism,
supplements by comon Sense, are perfectly
valid and inevitably destructive against any
such structure. But I am surely in danger of
becoming ridiculous in writing thus to the
scientific world. What I really wish to show is
that one ned not look for all the Buddhist fancy
dishes to the peril of the scientific digestion.
And by a backhanded stroke I wish to impress
as deeply as possible upon my Buddhist friends
that too much zeal for the accidentals of our
religion will surely result in the overwhelming
of its essentials in the tide of justly scornful or
justly casuistic criticism.—A. C.
85
the beads of Arabian-Night-Entertainment
are strung.3
I propose therefore to deal with these
and some other minor points of the
Buddhist metaphysis, and trace out their
scientific analogies, or, as I hope to show,
more often identities.
First then let us examine that great
Summary of the Buddhist Faith, the Four
Noble Truths.
III.
THE FOUR NOBLE TRUTHS.
(1) SORROW.—Existence is Sorrow. This
means that “no known form of Existence is
seperable from Sorrow.” This truth is
stated by Huxley, almost in so many words,
in Evolution and Ethics. “It was no less
plain to some of these antique philosophers
than to the fathers of modern philosophy
that suffering is the badge of all the tribe
of sentient things; that it is no accidental
accompaniment, but an essential constituent
of the Cosmic Process.” And in the same
essay, though he is disposed to deny more
than the rudiments of consciousness to the
lower forms of life, he is quite clear that
pain varies directly (to put it loosely) with
the degree of consciousness. Cf. also
“Animal Automatism,” pp. 236-237.
(2) SORROW’S CAUSE.—The cause of
sorrow is desire. I take desire here to
include such a phenomenon as the tendency
of two molecules of hydrogen and chlorine
to combine under certain conditions. If
death be painful to me, it is presumably so
to a molecule ; if we represent one opera-
tion as pleasant, the converse is presumably
painful. Though I am not conscious of the
individual pain of the countless deaths in-
volved in this my act of writin, it may be
there. And what I call “fatigue” may be the
echo in my central consciousness of the
3
See Prof. Rhys Davids on the “Jataka.”
 SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM
shriek of a peripheral anguish. Here we
leave the domain of fact; but at least as far
our knowledge extends, all or nearly all the
operations of Nature are vanity and vexation
of spirit. Consider food, the desire for which
periodically arises in all conscious beings.1
The existence of these desires, or rather
necessities, which I realise to be mine, is
unpleasant. It is this desire inherent in me
for continued consciousness that is responsible
for it all, and this leads us to the Third Noble
Truth.
(3) SORROW’S CEASING.—The cessation
of desire is the cessation of sorrow. This is
a simple logical inference form the second
Truth, and needs no comment.
(4) THE NOBLE EIGHTFOLD PATH.—There
is a way, to be considered later, of realising
the Third Truth. But we must, before we
can perceive its possibility on the one hand,
or its necessity on the other, form a clear
idea of what are the Buddhist tenets with
regard to the Cosmos; and, in particular, to
man.2
IV.
THE THREE CHARACTERISTICS.
The Three Characteristics (which we
may predicate of all known existing things:
(a) Change. Anikka.
(b) Sorrow. Dukkha.
(c) Absence of an Ego. Anatta.
1
Change is the great enemy, the immediate
cause of pain. Unable to arrest it, I slow the
process, and render it temporarily painless, by
eating. This is a concession to weakness, no
doubt, in one sense. Do I eat really in order to
check change, or to maintain my
consciousness? Change I desire, for my present
condition is sorrow. I really desire the
impossible; completely to retain my present
egoity with all its conditions reversed.—A. C.
2
For an able and luminous exposition of
“The Four Noble Truths” I refer the reader to
the pamphlet bearing that title by by old friend
Bikkhu Ananda Maitriya, published by the
Buddhasasana Samagama, 1 Pagoda Road,
Rangoon.—A. C.
86
This is the Buddhist assertion. What
does Science say?
(a) Huxley, “Evolution and Ethics”:
“As no man fording a swift stream can dip
his foot twice into the same water, so no man
can, with exactness, affirm of anything in
the sensible world that it is. As he utters the
words, nay, as he thinks them, the predicate
ceases to be applicable; the present has
become the past; the ‘is’ should be ‘was.’
And the more we learn of the nature of things
the more evident is it that what we call rest
is only unperceived activity ; that seeming
peace is silent but strenuous battle. In every
part, at every moment, the state of the cosmos
is the expression of a transitory adjustment
of contending forces, a scene of strife, in
which all the combatants fall in turn. What
is true of each part is true of the whole.
Natural knowledge tends more and more to
the conclusion that “all the choir of heaven
and furniture of the earth” are the transitory
forms of parcels of cosmic substance wending
along the road of evolution, from nebulous
potentiality, through endless growths of sun
and planet and satellite, through all varieties
of matter; through infinite diversities of life
and thought, possibly, through modes of being
of which we neither have a conception, nor
are competent to form any, back to the
indefinable latency from which they arose.
Thus the most obvious attribute of the cosmos
is its impermenance. It assumes the aspect
not so much of a permanent entity as of a
changeful process, in which naught endures
save the flow of energy and the rational
order which pervades it.”
This is an admirable summary of the
Buddhist doctrine.
(b) See above on the First Noble Truth.
(c) This is the grand position which Buddha
carried against the Hindu philosophers. In
our own country it is the argument of Hume,
following Berkeley to a place where Berkeley
certainly never meant to go—a curious
parallel fulfilment of Christ’s curse against
Peter (John xxi.). The Bishop demolishes
the idea of a substratum of matter, and
 SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM
Hume follows by applying an identical
process of reasoning to the phenomena of
mind.1
Let us consider the Hindu theory. They
classify the phenomena (whether well or ill
matters nothing), but represent them all as
pictured in, but not affecting, a certain
changeless, omniscient, blissful existence
called Atman. Holding to Theism, the
existence of evil forces them to the Fichtean
position that “the Ego posits the Non-Ego,”
and we learn that nothing really exists after
all but Brahm. They then distinguish
between Jivatma, the soul-conditioned, and
Paramatma, the soul free; the former being
the basis of our normal consciousness; the
latter of the Nirvikalpa-Samadhi conscious-
1
The Buddhist position may be interpreted
as agnostic in this matter, these arguments
being directed against, and destructive of, the
unwarranted assumptions of the Hindus; but no
more. See Sabbasava Sutta, 10.
“In him, thus unwisely considering, there
springs up one or other of the six (absurd)
notions.
“As something real and true he gets the
notion, ‘I have a self.’
“As something real and true he gets the
notion, ‘I have not a self.’
“As something real and true he gets the
notion, ‘By my self, I am conscious of my self.’
“As something real and true he gets the
notion, ‘By my self, I am conscious of my non-
self.’
“Or again, he gets the notion, ‘This soul of
mine can be perceived, it has experienced the
result of good or evil actions committed here
and there; now this soul of mine is permanent,
lasting, eternal, has the inherent quality of never
changing, and will contiue for ever and ever!’
“This, brethren, is called the walking in de-
lusion, the jungle of delusion, the wilderness of
delusion, the puppet-show of delusion, the
writhing of delusion, the fetter of delusion.”
There are, it may be noted, only five (not
six) notions mentioned, unless we take the last
as double. Or we may consider the sixth as the
contrary of the fifth, and correct. The whole
passage is highly technical, perhaps
untrustworthy; in any case, this is not the place
to discuss it. The sun of Agnosticism breaking
through the cloud of Anatta is the phenomenon
to which I wished to call attention.—A. C.
87
ness; this being the sole condition on which
morals, religion, and fees to priests can
continue. For the Deist has only to advance
his fundamental idea to be forced round in a
vicious circle of absurdities.1
The Buddhist makes a clean sweep of all
this sort of nonsense. He analyses the phe-
nomena of mind, adopting Berkeley’s para-
dox that “matter is immaterial,” in a sane
and orderly way. The “common-sense Phi-
losopher,” whom I leave to chew the bitter
leaves of Professer Huxley’s Essay “On
Sensation and the Unity of the Structure of
Sensiferous Organs,” observes, on lifting his
arm, “I lift my arm.” The Buddhist ex-
amines this proposition closely, and begins:
“There is a lifting of an arm.”
By this terminology he avoids Teutonic
discussions concerning the Ego and Non-
ego.2 But how does he know this proposi-
tion to be true? By sensation. The fact is
therefore:
“There is a sensation of the lifting of an
arm.”
But how does he know that? By percep-
tion. Therefore he says:
“There is a perception of a sensation, &c.”
And why this perception? From the in-
herent tendency.
(Note carefully the determinist standpoint
involved in the enunciation of his Fourth
Skandha; and that it comes lower than
Viññanam.)
“There is a tendency to perceive the
sensation, &c.”
And how does he know that there is a
tendency ? By consciousness. The final analysis
reads:
“There is a consciousness of a tendency
to perceive the sensation of a lifting of an
arm.”
He does not, for he cannot, go further
back. He will not suppose, on no sort of
evidence, the substratum of Atman uniting
1
As Bishop Butler so conclusively showed.
2
I may incidentally remark that a very few
hours’ practice (see Section VIII.) cause “I lift
my arm” to be intuitively denied.—A. C.
 SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM
consciousness to consciousness by its eternity,
while it fixes a great gulf between them by
its changelessness. He states the knowable,
states it accurately, and leaves it there. But
there is a practical application of this analysis
which I will treat of later. (See VIII. Maha-
satipatthana.)
We are told that the memory is a proof of
some real “I.” But how treacherous is this
ground! Did a past event in my life not
happen because I have forgotten it? O the
analogy of the river water given above is
most valid! I who write this am not I who
read it over and correct it. Do I desire to
play with lead soldiers? Am I the doddering
old cripple who must be wheeled about and
fed on whisky and bread and milk? And is
my difference from them so conspicuously
less than from the body lying dead of which
those who see it will say. “This was Aleister
Crowley”?
What rubbish it is to suppose that an
eternal substance, sentient or not, omniscient
or not, depends for its information on so
absurd a series of bodies as are groups
under that “Crowley”!
Yet the Buddhist meets all arguments of
the spiritual order with a simple statement
which, if not certain, is at least not improb-
able. There is, he will tell you, a “spiritual”
world, or to avoid any (most unjustifiable)
misunderstandings, let us say a world of
subtler matter than the visible and tangible,
which has its own laws (analogous to, if not
identical with, those laws of matter with
which we are acquainted) and whose inhabi-
tants change, and die, and are re-born very
much as ordinary mortal beings. But as
they are of subtler matter, the cycle is less
rapid.1
As a nominalist, I hope not to be
misunderstood when I compare this to the
relative mutability of the individual and the
species.2 We have enough examples free
1 to abate the symptoms to nil, though perhaps
Cf. Huxley, cited supra, “possibly, through
modes of being of which we neither have a
conception, nor are competent to form any. . . .”
2
Cf. “Evolution and Ethics,” note 1.
88
from such possibility of misinterpretation in
our own bodies. Compare the longevity of a
bone with that of a corpuscle. But it is this
“Substratum” universe, which must not be
confounded with the substratum, the argu-
ments for whose existence Berkeley so utterly
shattered,1 which may conserve memory for
a period greatly exceeding that of one of
its particular avatars. Hence the “Jataka.”
But the doctrine is not very essential; its
chief value is to show what serious difficulties
confront us, and to supply a reason to
struggle to some better state. For if nothing
1
Without an elaborate analysis of the ideas
involved in the Ding an sich of Kant, and of
H. Spencer’s definition of all things as Modes
of the Unknowable, I may point out in passing
that all these hypotheses are as sterile as the
“vital principle” in biology, or “phlogiston” in
chemistry. They lead literally nowhere. That
the phenomenal world is an illusion is all very
well; one girds up one’s loins to seek reality:
but to prove reality unknowable is to shut all
avenues to the truth-loving man, and open all to
the sensualist. And, if we accept either of the
above philosophies, it does not matter. That we
feel it does matter is sufficient refutation, for we
must obey the sentence awarded on our own
testimony, whether we like it or not.
I am aware that this is a somewhat cowardly
way of dealing with the question; I prefer to
insist that if we once admit that the unknowable
(by reason) to consciousness may be known (by
concentration) to super-consciousness, the
difficulty vanishes.
I think Huxley goes too far in speaking of a
man “self-hypnotised into cataleptic trances”
without medical evidence of a large number
of cases. Edward Carpenter, who has met
Yogis, and talked long and learnedly with
them, tells a different story.
Even had we a large body of evidence from
Anglo-Indian medical men, the proof would
still be lacking. They might not be the real
men. The Indian native would take intense
delight in bringing round the village idiot to be
inspected in the character of a holy man by the
“Doctor Sahib.”
The Anglo-Indian is a fool; a minimum
medical education is in most cases insufficient
it must always diminish them. The Hindu is
the Sphinx of civilisation; nearly all that has
been written on him is worthless; those who
know him best know this fact best.—A. C.
 SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM
survives death, what does it matter to us?
Why are we to be so altruistic as to avoid
the reincarnation of a being in all points
different from ourselves? As the small boy
said, “What has posterity done for me?”
But somethin does persist; something
changing, though less slowly. What evi-
dence have we after all that an animal does
not remember his man-incarnation? Or, as
Levi says, “In the suns they remember,
and in the planets they forget.” I think it
unlikely (may be), but in the total absence of
all evidence for or against—at least with
regard to the latter hypothesis !—I suspend
my judgement, leave the question alone, and
proceed to more practical points that are
offered by these interesting but not over-
useful metaphysical speculations.
V.
KARMA.
The Law of Causation is formally identical
with this. Karma means “that which is
made,” and I think it should be considered
with strict etymological accuracy. If I place
a stone on the roof of a house, it is sure to
fall sooner or later; i.e., as soon as the con-
ditions permit. Also, in its ultimation, the
doctrine of Karma is identical with deter-
minism. On this subject much wisdom, with
an infinite amount of rubbish, has been
written. I therefore dismiss it in these few
words, confident that the established identity
can never be shaken.
VI.
THE TEN FETTERS OR SANYOGANAS.
1. Sakkaya-ditthi. Belief in a “soul.”
2. Vikikikkha. Doubt.
3. Silabbata-parâ- Reliance on the effi-
mâsa cacy of rites and
and ceremonies.
4. Kama. Bodily Desires.
89
5. Patigha. Hatred.
6. Ruparaga. Desire for bodily
immortality.
7. Aruparaga. Desire for spiritual
immortality.
8. Mano. Pride.
9. Udhakka. Self-righteousness.
10. Avigga. Ignorance.
(1) For this is a petitio principii.
(2) This, to a scientist, is apparently
anathema. But it only means, I think, that
if we are not settled in our minds we cannot
work. And this is unquestionable. Suppose
a chemist to set to work to determine the
boiling-point of a new organic substance.
Does he stop in the midst, struck by the
fear that his thermometer is inaccurate?
No! he has, unless he is a fool, tested it
previously. We must have our principia
fixed before we can do research work.
(3) A scientist hardly requires conviction
on this point!
(4) Do you think to combine Newton and
Caligula? The passions, allowed to
dominate, interfere with the concentration
of the mind.
(5) Does brooding on your dislikes help
you to accurate observation? I admit that
a controversy may stir you up to perform
prodigies of work, but while you are actually
working you do not suffer the concentration
of your mind to be interfered with.
(6 & 7) This Fetter and the next are con-
tingent on your having perceived the suffer-
ing of all forms of conscious existence.
(8) Needs no comment. Pride, like
humility, is a form of delusion.
(9) Is like unto it, but on the moral
plane.
(10) The great enemy. Theists alone
have found the infamous audacity to extol
the merits of this badge of servitude.
We see, then, that in this classification
a scientist will concur. We need not discuss
the question whether or no he would find
others to add. Buddhism may not be com-
plete, but, as far as it goes, it is accurate.
 SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM
VII.
THE RELATIVE REALITY OF CERTAIN
STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS
Whether we adopt Herbert Spencer’s
dictum that the primary testimony of con-
sciousness is to the existence of externality,
or no;1 whether or no we fly to the extreme
idealistic position; there is no question that,
to our normal consciousness, things as they
present themselves—apart from obvious
illusion, if even we dare to except this—are
undisprovable to the immediate apprehen-
sion. Whatever our reason may tell us, we
act precisely as through Berkeley had never
lived, and the herculean Kant had been
strangled while yet in his cradle by the twin
serpents of his own perversity and termi-
nology.
What criterion shall we apply to the
relative realities of normal and dream
consciousness? Why do I confidently assert
that the dream state is transitory and un-
real?
In that state I am equally confident that
my normal consciousness is invalid. But
as my dreams occupy a relatively small
portion of my time, and as the law of causa-
tion seems suspended, and as their vividness
is less than that of ordinary consciousness,
and above all, as in the great majority of
cases I can show a cause, dating from my
waking hours, for the dream, I have four
strong reasons (the first explanatory to some
extent of my reasons for accepting the others)
for concluding that the dream is fictitious.
But what of the “dreamless” state? To
the dreamer his normal faculties and memo-
ries arise at times, and are regarded as frag-
mentary and absurd, even as the remembrance
of a dream is to the waking man. Can we
not conceive then of a “dreamless” life, of
1
Mahasatipatthana (Sec. VIII.) does admit
this perhaps. Yet its very object is to correct
consciousness on the lines indicated by reason.
90
which our dreams are the vague and
disturbed transition to normal consciousness?
The physiological evidence goes literally
for nothing. Even were it proved that the
recipio-motor apparatus of a “dreamless”
sleeper was relatively quiescent, would that
supply any valid argument against the theory I
have suggested? Suggested, for I admit
that our present position is completely ag-
nostic in respect to it, since we have no
evidence which throws light on the matter;
and study of the subject would appear to be
mere waste of time.
But the suggestion is valuable as affording
us a possibly rational explanation, conform-
able to the waking man, which the dreamer
would indignantly reject.
Suppose, however, a dream so vivid that
the whole waking man is abased before its
memory, that his consciousness of it appears a
thousand times more real than that of the
things about him; suppose that his whole
life is moulded to fit the new facts thus re-
vealed to him; that he would cheerfully re-
nounce years of normal life to obtain minutes
of that dream-life; that his time sense is
uprooted as never before, and that these
influences are permanent. Then, you will
say, delirium tremens (and the intoxication
of hashish, in respect more particularly of
the time sense) afford us a parallel. But the
phenomena of delirium tremens do not
occur in the healthy. As for the suggestion
of auto-hypnosis, the memory of the “dream”
is a sufficient reply. However this may be,
the simple fact of the superior apparent
reality—a conviction unshakable, inépuisable
(for the English has no word), is a sufficient
test. And if we condescend to argue, it is
for pleasure, and aside from the vital fact; a
skirmish, and not a pitched battle.
This “dream” I have thus described is
the state called Dhyana by the Hindus and
Buddhists. The method of attaining it is
sane, healthy, and scientific. I would not
take the pains to describe that method, had
not illiterate, and too often mystical advo-
cates of the practice obscured the simple
 SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM
grandeur of our edifice by jimcrack
pinnacles of stucco—as who should hang
the Taj Mahal with fairy lamps and chintz.
It is simple. The mind is compelled to
fix its attention on a single thought; while
the controlling power is exercised and a
profound watchfulness kept up lest the
thought should for a moment stray.1 The
latter portion is, to my mind, the essential
one. The work is comparable to that of an
electrician who should sit for hours with his
finger on a delicately adjusted resistance-box
and his eye on the spot of light of a
galvanometer, charged with the duty of
keeping the spot still, at least that it should
never move beyond a certain number of
degrees, and of recording the more impor-
tant details of his experiment. Our work is
identical in design, though worked with
subtler—if less complex—means. For the
finger on the resistance-box we substitute
the Will ; and its control extends but to the
Mind ; for the eye we substitute the
Introspective Faculty with its keen observa-
tion of the most minute disturbance, while
the spot of light is the Consciousness itself,
the central point of the galvanometer scale
the predetermined object, and the other
figures on the scale, other objects, connected
with the primary by order and degree,
sometimes obviously, sometimes obscurely,
perhaps even untraceably, so that we have
no real right to predicate their connection.2
1
Huxley, Essays, V., 136.
2
This last sentence will be best understood
by those who have practised up to a certain
point. At first it is easy to trace back be a
connected chain of thoughts from the thought
which awakes us to the fact that we are
wandering to the original thought. Later, and
notably as we improve, this becomes first
difficult, then impossible. At first sight this fact
suggests that we are injuring our brains by the
practice, but the explanation is as follows:
Suppose we figure the central consciousness as
the Sun, intent on seeing that nothing falls into
him. First the near planets are carefully
arranged, so that no collision can occur;
afterwards Jupiter and Saturn, until his whole
system is safe. If then any body fall upon the
Sun, he knows that it is not from any of those
91
How any sane person can describe this
process as delusive and unhealthy passes my
comprehension; that any scientist should do so
implies an ignorance on his part of the facts.
I may add that the most rigid necessity
exists for perfect health of body and mind
before this practice can begin; asceticism
is as sternly discouraged as indulgence.
How would the electrician do his work
after a Guildhall Banquet? The strain of
watching would be too much, and he would
go off to sleep. So with the meditatior.
If, on the other hand, he had been without
food for twenty-four hours, he might—indeed,
it has been done often—perform prodigies
of work for the necessary period; but a
reaction must follow of proportionate
severity. Nobody will pretend that the best
work is done starving.3
Now to such an observer certain pheno-
mena present themselves sooner or later
which have the qualities above predicated
of our imaginary “dream” preceded by a
transition-state very like total loss of
consciousness. Are these fatigue phenomena?
Is it that this practice for some as yet
unknown reason stimulates some special
nerve-centre ? Perhaps; the subject re-
quires investigation; I am not a physio-
logist. Whatever physiology may say, it
is at least clear that if this state is accom-
panied with an intense and passionles bliss
beyond anything that the normal man can
conceive of, and unaccompanied with the
slightest prejudice to the mental and physical
health, it is most highly desirable. And to
the scientist is presents a magnificent field
of research.
planets with which he is familiar, and, lord of
his own system, cannot trace the course or
divine the causes of the accident which has
disturbed him. And he will accept this
ignorance as a proof of how well his own
system is going, since he no longer receives
shocks from it.—A. C.
3
Hallucination especially is to be feared.
Light-headedness from want of food is quite
sufficient explanation for many “Mystic
ratures.” I do not care to invoke hysteria and
epilepsy without positive evidence.—A. C.
 SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM
Of the metaphysical and religious theories
which have been built upon the facts here
stated, I have nothing to say in this place.
The facts are not at the disposition of all;
from the nature of the subject each man
must be his own witness. I was once
twitted by some shallow-pated person with
the fact that my position cannot be demon-
strated in the laboratory, and that therefore
(save the mark!) I must be a mystic, an
occultist, a theosophist, a mystery-monger,
and what not. I am none of these. The
above criticism applies to every psychologist
that ever wrote, and to the man who makes
the criticism by the fact of his making it.
I can only say : “You have your own
laboratory and apparatus, your mind; and
if the room is dirty and the apparatus ill
put together, you have certainly not me
to blame for it.”
The facts being of individual importance,
then, there is little use if I detail the results
of my own experience. And the reason
for this reticence—for I plead guilty to
reticence—that to explain would damage
the very apparatus whose use I am advoca-
ting. For did I say that such and such a
practice leads one to see a blue pig, the
suggestion is sufficient to cause one class of
people to see a blue pig where none
existed, and another to deny or suspect
the blue pig when it really appeared, though
the latter alternative is unlikely. The con-
scious phenomenon, and the bliss, is of so
stupendous and well-defined a nature that I
cannot imagine any preconceived idea power-
ful enough to diminish it appreciably. But for
the sake of the former class I hold my tongue.1
I trust it is now perfectly clear, if my
statements are accepted—and I can only
1
On the advisibility of so doing I am open
to conviction. The scientific mind, I might
argue, will not readily fall into that error ;
and for the others, they will be useless as a
research phalanx, and may as well see blue pigs
and be happy as not. In the past, no
doubt, research has been choked by the
multitude of pseudo-blue-pig-people, from the
“T.S.” to the “G.D.” We must distinguish by
methods, not by results.—A. C.
92
most seriously assure you that honest labo-
rious experiment will be found to verify
them in every particular—that whatever
arguments are brought forward destructive
of the reality of Dhyana, apply with far
more force to the normal state, and it is
evident that to deny the latter seriously
is ipso facto to become unserious. Whether
the normal testimony may be attacked from
above, by insisting on the superior reality
of Dhyana—and à fortiori of Samadhi,
which I have not experienced, and conse-
quently do not treat of, being content to
accept the highly probably statements of
those who profess to know, and who have
so far not deceived me (i.e. as to Dhyana),
is a question which it is not pertinent to
the present argument to discuss.1 I shall,
however, suggest certain ideas in the follow-
ing section, in which I propose to discuss
the most famous of the Buddhist medita-
tions (Mahasatipatthana, its method, object,
and results.
VIII.
MAHASATIPATTHANA.
This meditation differs fundamentally
from the usual Hindu methods by the fact
that the mind is not restrained to the
contemplation of a single object, and there
is no interference with the natural functions
of the body as there is, e.g., in Pranayama.
It is essentially an observation-practice,
which later assumes an analytic aspect in
regard to the question, “What is it that is
really observed?”
The Ego-idea is resolutely excluded from
the start, and so far Mr. Herbert Spencer
will have nothing to object (“Principles of
1
The gravest doubts assail me on further
examination of this point. I am now (1906)
convinced that the experiences to which I refer
constitute Samadhi. The accursed pedentry of
the pundits has led to the introduction of a
thousand useless subtleties in philosophical
terminology, the despair alike of the translator
and the investigator, until he realises that it is
pedantry, and as worthless as the rest of
oriental literature in all matters of exactitude.
 SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM
Psychology,” ii. 404). The breathing, motions
of walking, &c., are merely observed and
recording; for instance, one may sit down
quietly and say: “There is an indrawing
of the breath.” “There is an expiration,”
&c. Or, walking, “There is a raising of
the right foot,” and so on, just as it happens.
The thought is of course not quick enough to
note all the movements or their subtle causes.
For example, we cannot describe the compli-
cated muscular contractions, &c. ; but this
is not necessary. Concentrate on some series
of simple movements.
When this through habit becomes intuitive
so that the thought is really “There is a
raising,” as opposed to “I raise” (the latter
being in reality a complex and adult idea, as
philosophers have often shown, ever since
Descartes fell into the trap), one may begin
to analyse, as explained above, and the second
stage is “There is a sensation (Vedana) of a
raising, &c.” Sensations are further classed
as pleasant or unpleasant.
When this is the true intuitive instantaneous
testimony of consciousness (so that “There
is a raising, &c.” is rejected as a palpable
lie),1 we procede to Sañña, perception.
“There is a perception of a (pleasant or
unpleasant) sensation of a raising, &c.”
When this has become intuitive—why !
here’s a strange result ! The emotions of
pain and pleasure have vanished. They are
subincluded in the lesser skandha of Vedana,
and Sañña is free from them. And to him
who can live in this third stage, and live so
for ever, there is no more pain; only an
intense interest similar to that which has
enabled men of science to watch and note
the progress of their own death-agony. Un-
1
“Why should you expect Vedana to make
Rupa appear illusory?” asked a friend of mine,
on reading through the MS. of this essay. The
reason of my omission to explain is that to me it
had seemed obvious. The fact had been
assimilated. To meditate on anything is to
perceive its unreal nature. Notably this is so in
concentrating on parts of the body, such as the
nose. On this phenomenon the Hindus have
based their famous aphorism, “That which can
be thought is not true.”—A. C.
93
fortunately the living in such a state is
conditional on sound mental health, and
terminable by disease or death at any moment.
Were it not so, the First Noble Truth would
be a lie.
The two further stages Sankhara and Viñ-
ñanam pursue the analysis to its ultimation,
“There is a consciousness of a tendency to
perceive the (pleasant or unpleasant) sensa-
tion of a raising of a right foot” being the
final form. And I suppose no psychologist
of any standing will quarrel with this.1
Reasoning in fact leads us to this analysis;
the Buddhist goes further only in so far as he
may be said to knock down the scaffolding
of reasoning processes, and to assimilate the
actual truth of the matter.
It is the difference between the schoolboy
who painfully construes “Balbus murum ædi-
ficavit,” and the Roman who announces that
historic fact without a thought of his grammer.
I have called this meditation the most
famous of the Buddhist meditations, because
it is stated by the Buddha himself that if one
practices it honestly and intelligently a result
is certain. And he says this of no other.
I have personally not found the time to
devote myself seriously to this Mahasati-
patthana, and the statements here made are
those derived from reason and not from ex-
perience. But I can say that the unreality of
the grosser (rupa) relative to the sublter
Vedana and still more subtle Sañña be-
comes rapidly apparent, and I can only
conclude that with time and trouble the
process would continue.
What will occur when one reaches the
final stage of Vññanam, and finds no Atman
behind it ? Surely the Viññanam stage will
soon seem as unreal as the former have be-
come. It is idle to speculate; but if I may
escape the imputation of explaining the ob-
scure by the more obscure, I may hint that
such a person must be very near the state
called Nirvana, whatever may be meant by
1
I deal with Mr. Spencer and “Transfigured
Realism” in a note at the end of this section.—
A. C.
 SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM

this term. And I am convinced in my own enough, only as truths verified by a higher
mind that the Ananda (bliss) of Dhyana will and more correct reasoning than that of his
surely arise long before one has passed even opponents.
up to Sankhara. We recognise, with Berkeley, that reason
And for the reality, ’twill be a brave jest,teaches us that the testimony of conscious-
my masters, to fling back on the materialists ness is untrue; it is absurd, with Spencer,
to refute reason ; instead we take means to
that terrible gibe of Voltaire’s at the mystery-
mongers of his day: “Ils nient ce qui est, et bring consciousness to a sense of its impro-
expliquent ce qui n’est pas.” bity. Now our (empiric) diagnosis is that it
is the dissipation of mind that is chiefly re-
NOTE TO SECTION VIII. sponsible for its untruthfulness. We seek (also
Transfigured Realism. by empiric means, alas!) to control it, to con-
centrate it, to observe more accurately—has
I will not waste my own time and that of this source of possible error been sufficiently
my readers by any lengthy discussion of Mr. recognised?—what its testimony really is.
Herbert Spencer’s “Transfigured Realism.” Experience has taught me, so far as I have
I will not point out in greater detail how he been able to go, that Reason and Conscious-
proposes, by a chain of reasoning, to ness have met together; Apprehension and
overthrow the conclusions he admits as Analysis have kissed one another. The re-
being those of reason. conciliation (in fact, remember, and not in
But his statement that Idealism is but words) is at least so nearly perfect that I can
verbally intelligible is for my purpose the confidently predict that a further pursuit of
most admirable thing he could have said. the (empirically-indicated) path will surely
He is wrong in saying that idealists are lead to a still further and higher unity.
bewildered by their own terminology ; The realisation of the hopes held out by
the fact is that idealist conclusions are pre- the hypothesis is then of clear evidential
sented directly to consciousness, when that value in support of that hypothesis, empiric
consciousness is Dhyanic. (Cf. Section XI.) as it was, and is. But with the growth and
Nothing is clearer to my mind that that gathering-together, classifying, criticism of
the great difficulty habitually experienced by our facts, we are well on the way to erect a
the normal mind in the assimilation of meta- surer structure on a broader basis.
physics is due to the actual lack of experi-
ence in the mind of the reader of the
phenomena discussed. I will go so far as to IX.
say that perhaps Mr. Spencer himself is so
AGNOSTICISM.
bitter because he himself has actual ex-
perience of “Transfigured Realism” as a It should be clearly understood, and well
directly presented phenomenon; for if he remembered, that throughout all these medi-
supposes that the normal healthy mind can tations and ideas, there is no necessary way
perceive what he perceives, Berkeley’s argu- to any orthodox ontology whatever. As to
ments must seem to him mere wanton the way of salvation, we are not to rely on
stupidity. the Buddha; the vicious lie of vicarious
I class the Hindu philosophy with the atonement finds no place here. The Buddha
Idealist; the Bhuddistic with that of Mr. himself does not escape the law of causation ;
Herbert Spencer; the great difference be- if this be metaphysics, so far Buddhism is
tween the two being that the Buddhists re- metaphysical, but no further. While deny-
cognise clearly these (or similar) conclusions ing obvious lies, it does not set up dogmas;
as phenomena, Mr. Spencer, inconsistently all its statements are susceptible of proof—
a child can assent to all the more important.

94
 SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM
And this is Agnosticism. We have a scien-
tific religion. How far would Newton have
got if he had stuck to Tycho Brahe as the
One Guide? How far the Buddha had he
reverenced the Vedas with blind faith? Or
how far can we proceed even from partial
truth, unless a perfectly open mind be kept
regarding it, aware that some new pheno-
menon may possibly overthrow our most fun-
damental hypotheses ! Give me a reasonable
proof of some (intelligent) existence which
is not liable to sorrow, and I will throw the
First Noble Truth to the dogs without a
pang. And, knowing this, how splendid is
it to read the grand words uttered more than
two thousand years ago: “Therefore, O
Ananda, be ye lamps unto yourselves. Be ye a
refuge to yourselves. Betake yourselves to
no external refuge. Hold fast to the truth
as lamp. Hold fast as a refugee to the
truth.. Look not for refuge to any one be-
sides yourselves.” (Mahaparanibbana Sutta,
ii. 33.) And to such seekers only does the
Buddha promise “the very topmost Height”—
if only they are “anxious to learn.” This
is the corner-stone of Buddhism; can scien-
tific men deny their assent to these words
when they look back on the history of
Thought in the West; the torture of Bruno,
the shame of Galileo, the obscurantism of
the Schoolmen, the “mystery” of the hard-
pressed priests, the weapons carnal and
spiritual of stake and rack, the labyrinths of
lying and vile intrigue by which Science, the
child, was deformed, distorted, stunted, in
the interest of the contrary proposition?
If you ask me why you should be Buddhists
and not indifferentists, as you are now, I tell
you that I come, however unworthy, to take
up the sword that Huxley wielded; I tell
you that the Oppressor of Science in her
girlhood is already at work to ravish her
virginity; that a moment’s hesitation, idle-
ness, security may force us back from the
positions so hardly won. Are we never to
go forward, moreover ? Are our children
still to be taught as facts the stupid and
indecent fables of the Old Testament, fables
95
that the Archbishop of Canterbury himself
would indignantly repudiate ? Are minds to
be warped early, the scientific method and
imagination checked, the logical faculty
thwarted—thousands of workers lost each
year to Science?
And the way to do this is not only through
the negative common-sense of indifference ;
organise, organise, organise! For a flag we
offer you the stainless lotus-banner of the
Buddha, in defence of which no drop of
blood has ever been, nor ever will be shed,
a banner under which you will join forces
with five hundred millions of your fellow-men.
And you will not be privates in the army ;
for you the highest place, the place of
leaders, waits; as far as the triumphs of the
intellect are concerned, it is to Western
Science that we look. Your achievements
have shattered the battle-array of dogma and
despotism; your columns roll in triumphant
power through the breaches of false meta-
physics and baseless logic; you have fought
that battle, and the laurels are on your
brows. The battle was fought by us more
than two thousand years ago; the authority
of the Vedas, the restrictions of caste, were
shattered by the invulnerable sword of truth
in Buddha’s hand; we are your brothers.
But in the race of intellect we have fallen
behind a little; will you take no interest in
us, who have been your comrades? To
Science Buddhism cries: Lead us, reform
us, give us clear ideas of Nature and her
laws; give us that basis of irrefragable logic
and wide knowledge that we need, and
march with us into the Universe !
The Buddhist faith is not a blind faith ;
its truths are obvious to all who are not
blinded by the spectacles of bibliolatry and
deafened by the clamour of priests, presby-
ters, ministers: whatever name they choose
for themselves, we can at least put them
aside in one great class, the Thought-stiflers;
and these truths are thosse which we have
long accepted and to which you have
recently and hardly won.
It is to men of your stamp, men of inde-
 SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM
pendent thought, of keen ecstasy of love of
knowledge, of practical training, that the
Buddhasanana Samagama1 appeals; it is
time that Buddhism reformed itself from
within; though its truths be held untarnished
(and even this is not everywhere the case),
its methods, its organisation, are sadly in
need of repair; research must be done, men
must be perfected, error must be fought.
And if in the West a great Buddhist society
is built up of men of intellect, of the men in
whose hands the future lies, there is then an
awakening, a true redemption, of the weary
and forgetful Empires of the East.
X seen behind after my nose had vanished.
THE NOBLE EIGHTFOLD PATH
To return from our little digression to the
original plan of our essay. It is time to
note the “Noble Eightfold Path,” referred
to and its consideration deferred, in Sec-
tion III.
In this Fourth Noble Truth we approach
the true direction of Buddhism; progress is
but another word for change; is it possible
to move in a direction whose goal is the
changeless? The answer is Yea and Amen!
and it is detailed in the Noble Eightfold
Path, of which I propose to give a short
resumé. First, however, of the goal. It may
be readily syllogised:
All existing things are (by nature, inevi-
tably) subject to change.
In Nirvana is no change.
∴ No existing thing is or can be in
Nirvana.
Now here is the great difficulty; for this
syllogism is perfectly sound, and yet we
speak of attaining Nirvana, tasting Nir-
vana, &c.
[We must distinguish the Hindu Nirvana,
which means Cessation of Existence in
certain Lokas; never absolute Cessation, as
1
Or International Buddhist Society, founded
in Rangoon in 1903.
96
the Buddhist tradition, the etymology, and
the logical value alike require for the word
as applied to the Buddhist goal. See Chidders,
Pali Dictionary, sub voce Nibbana.]
The explanation is really as follows : only
by this term Nirvana can we foreshadow to
you the reality; for even as the Dawn of
Dhyana is indescribable in language, à
fortiori Nirvana is so. To give an example,
for that something of the sort is necessary I
freely admit, to defend so apparently
mystical a statement, I may give the
following from my own experience.
In a certain meditation one day I re-
corded:
“I was (a) conscious of external things
(b) Conscious that I was not conscious of
these things. These (a) and (b) were
simultaneous.”
I subsequently discovered this peculiar
state of consciousness classified in the Ab-
hidhamma. That it is a contradiction in
terms I am perfectly aware; to assign any
meaning to it is frankly beyond me; but I
am as certain that such a state once existed
in me as I am of anything.
Similarly with Nirvana and its definition.
The Arahat knows what it is, and describes
it by its accidentals, such as bliss. I must
raise, very reluctantly, a protest against the
idea of Professer Rhys Davids (if I have
understood him aright) that Nirvana is the
mental state resulting from the continuous
practice of all the virtues and methods of
thought characteristic of Buddhism. No;
Nirvana is a state belonging to a different
plane, to a higher dimension than anything
we can at present conceive of. It has
perhaps its analogies and correspondences
on the normal planes, and so shall we find
of the steps as well as of the Goal. Even
the simple first step, which every true
Buddhist has taken, Sammaditthi, is a very
different thing from the point of view of
an Arahat. The Buddha stated expressly
that none but an Arahat could really com-
prehend the Dhamma.
 SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM
And so for all the Eight Stages; as
regards their obvious meaning on the moral
plane, I can do no better than quote my
friend Bhikku Ananda Maitriya, in his
“Four Noble Truths.”
“He who has attained, by force of pure
understanding, to the realisation of the Four
Noble Truths, who has realised the fact that
depends from that understanding, namely
that all the constituents of bein are by
nature endowed with the Three Character-
istics of Sorrow, Transitoriness, and Absence
of any immortal principle or Atma—such a
one is said to be Sammaditthi, to hold right
views, and the term has come to mean one
of the Buddhist Faith. We may not have
taken the other and higher steps on the
Noble Eightfold Path; but must have rea-
lised those Four Truths and their sequential
three Characteristics. He who has attained
Sammaditthi has at least entered upon the
Holy Way, and, if he but try, there will
come to him the power to overcome the
other fetters that restrict his progress. But
first of all he must abandon all those false
hopes and beliefs; and one who has done
this is called a Buddhist. And this holding
of Right Views, in Pali Sammaditthi, is the
first step upon the Noble Eightfold Path.
“The second stage is Right Aspiration—
Sammasankappo. Having realised the woe
and transitoriness and soullessness of all
life, there rises in the mind this Right Aspi-
ration. When all things suffer, we at least
will not increase their burden, so we aspire
to become pitiful and loving, to cherish ill-
will toward none, to retire from those
pleasures of sense which are the fruitful
cause of woe. The will, we all know, is
ever readier than the mind, and so, though
we aspire to renounce the pleasures of sense,
to love and pity all that lives, yet perhaps
we often fail in the accomplishment of our
aspiration. But if the desire to become
pitiful and pure be but honest and earnest,
we have gained the Second Step upon the
Path—Sammasankappo, Right Aspiration.
“He whose motives are pure has no need
97
to conceal the Truth—he who truly loves
and who has a malice towards none, will
ever speak only fair and soft words. By a
man’s speech do we learn his nature, and
that one whose Right Aspirations are bearing
fruit attains to the Third Step, Right Speech,
Sammaváca. Speaking only the Truth in
all things, never speaking harshly or un-
kindly, in his speech realising the love and
pity that is in his heart—that man has
attained to Stage the Third.
“And because of the great power of a man’s
thoughts and words to change his being,
because by thinking of the pitiful our acts
grow full of mercy, therefore is Stage the
Fourth called Right Conduct. To him who
has gained this Fourth Stage, his intense as-
piration, his right understanding, his care-
fully guarded speech—perhaps for many years
of self-control—have at last borne outward
fruit, till all his acts are loving, and pure, and
done without hope of gain, he has attained
the Fourth Step, called Sammakammanto.
“And when, growing yet holier, that habit
of Right Action grows firm and inalienable,
when his whole life is lived for the Faith
that is in him, when every act of his daily
life, yea, of his sleep also, is set to a holy
purpose, when not one thought or deed that
is cruel or unpitiful can stain his being—
when, not even as a duty, will he inflict
pain by deed, word, or thought—then he
has gained the Fifth High Path, the Living
of the Life that’s Right—Sammá ajivo.
Abstaining from all that can cause pain, he
has become blameless, and can live only by
such occupations as can bring no sorrow in
their train.1
“To him who has lived so, say the Holy
Books, there comes a power which is unknown
to ordinary men. Long training and restraint
have given him conquest of his mind, he can
1
From my point of view, this is of course
impossible. See Sec. III. If wilful infliction of
pain only is meant, our state becomes moral, or
even worse!—mystical. I should prefer to
cancel this sentence. Cf. Appendix I.—A. C.
[the story titled “The Three Characteristics.” –
T.S.]
 SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM
now bring all his powers with tremendous
force to bear upon any one object he may
have in view, and this ability so to use the
energies of his being to put forth a constant
and tremendous effort of the will, marks the
attainment of the Sixth Stage, Sammávayamo,
usually translated Right Effort, but perhaps
Right Will-Power would come nearer to the
meaning, or Right Energy, for effort has
been made even to attain to Sammaditthi.1
And this power being gained by its use he is
enabled to concentrate all his thoughts and
hold them always upon one object—waking
or sleeping, he remembers who he is and
what his high aim in life—and this constant
recollection and keeping in mind of holy
things, is the Seventh Stage, Sammasati.
And by the power of this transcendent
faculty, rising through the Eight High
Trances to the very threshold of Nirvana, he
at last, in the Trance called Nirodha
Samapatti, attains, even in this life, to the
Deathless Shore of Nirvana, by the power
of Sammasamadhi, Right Concentration.
Such a one has finished the Path—he has
destroyed the cause of all his chain of lives,
and has become Arahan, a Saint, a Buddha
himself.”
But none knows better than the venerable
Bhikkhu himself, as indeed he makes clear
with regard to the steps Sammávayamo and
above, that these interpretations are but
reflections of those upon a higher plane—
the scientific plane. They are (I have little
doubt) for those who have attained to them
mnemonic keys to whole classes of pheno-
mena of the order anciently denominated
magical, phenomena which, since the human
mind has had its present constitution, have
been translated into language, classified,
sought after, always above language, but not
beyond a sane and scientific classification, a
rigid and satisfactory method, as I most
firmly believe. It is to establish such a
method; to record in the language, not of
the temple, but of the laboratory, its results,
1 2
It is of course a special kind of effort, not
mere struggle.
98
that I make this appeal ; that I seek to
enlist genuine, not pseudo-scientific men in
the Research ; so that our children may be
as far in advance of us in the study of the
supernormal phenomena of the mind as we
are in advance of our fathers in the sciences
of the physical world.1
Note carefully this practical sense of my
intention. I care nothing for the academic
meanings of the steps in the Path; what they
meant to the Arahats of old is indifferent to
me. “Let the dead past bury its dead!”
What I require is an advance in the Know-
ledge of the Great Problem, derived no longer
from hearsay revelation, from exalted fanati-
cism, from hysteria and intoxication; but
from method and research.
Shut the temple ; open the laboratory!
XI.
2
THE TWILIGHT OF THE GERMANS.
It is a commonplace of scientific men
that meta-physics is mostly moonshine; that
it is largely an argument in a circle cannot
easily be disputed; that the advance since
Aristotle is principally verbal none may
doubt; that no parallel advance to that of
science has been made in the last fifty years
is certain.
The reason is obvious.
Philosophy has had two legitimate weapons
—introspection and reason; and introspec-
tion is not experiment.
1
A few weeks after writing these words I
came across the following passage in Tyndall’s
“Scientific Materialism” which I had not
previously read: “Two-thirds of the rays emitted
by the sun fail to arouse the sense of vision.
The rays exist, but the visual organ requisite for
their translation into light does not exist. And
so, from this region of darkness and mystery
which now surrounds us, rays may now be
dartin, which require but the development of
the proper intellectual organs to translate them
into knowledge as far surpassing ours as ours
surpasses that of the wallowing reptiles which
once held possession of this planet.”—A. C.
A Note showing the necessity and scope of
the Work in question.
 SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM
The mind is a machine that reasons; here
are its results. Very good; can it do
anything else? This is the question not only
of the Buddhist; but of the Hindu, of the
Mohammedan, of the Mystic. All try their
various methods; all attain results of sorts;
none have had the genuine trainin which
would have enabled them to record those
results in an intelligible, orderly form.
Others deliberately set their face against
such an attempt. I am not of them;
humanity has grown up; if the knowledge
be dangerous in unexpected ways, what of
bacteriology? I have obtained one result; a
result striking at the very condition of
consciousness; which I may formulate as
follows:
“If a single state of consciousness persist
unchanged for a period exceeding a very few
seconds, its duality is annihilated; its nature
is violently overthrown; this phenomenon is
accompanied by an indescribable sensation
of bliss.”
Very well! but I want this formula verified
a hundred times, a thousand times, by
independent investigators. I want it better
stated; its conditions modified, defined ex-
actly. I want it to leave its humble station
as my observation, and put into the class of
regular phenomena.
But I am verging back towards Hindu
philosophy, and it is a reminder well needed
at this moment. For this experience of the
destruction of duality, this first phenomenon
in the series, has, in all its illusory beauty,
been seized upon, generalised from, by philo-
sophers, and it is to this basis of partial and
therefore deceptive fact that we owe the
systems of Vedanta and Idealism, with
their grotesque assumptions and muddle-
headed “reconcilements” all complete.
One fact, O Sri Çankaracharya, does not
make a theory; let us remember your fate,
and avoid generalising on insufficient evi-
dence. With this word of warning, I leave
the metaphysician to wallow in his mire,
and look toward better times for the great
problems of philosophy. Remember that
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when the solution is attained it is not the
solution of one learned man for his fellows,
but one realised and assimilated by every
man in his own consciousness.
And what the solution may be none of us
can foreshadow. To hoist the problem on to
the horns of a dilemma will avail nothing
when A=A may be no longer true ; and this
by no Hegelian word-juggle ; but by direct
apperception as clear as the sun at noon.
Therefore; no work more, but—to the
work !
XII.
THE THREE REFUGES.
Buddham Saranangachami.
Dhammam Saranangachami.
Sangham Saranangachami.
I take my refuge in the Buddha.
I take my refuge in the Dhamma.
I take my refuge in the Sangha.
This formula of adhesion to Buddhism
is daily repeated by countless millions of
humanity; what does it mean? It is no vain
profession of reliance on others; no cowardly
shirking of burdens—burdens which cannot
be shirked. It is a plain estimate of our
auxiliaries in the battle; the cosmic facts on
which we may rely, just as a scientist “relies”
on the conservation of energy in making an
experiment.
Were that principle of uncertain applica-
tion, the simplest quantitative experiment
would break hopelessly down.
So for the Buddhist.
I take my refuge in the Buddha. That
there was once a man who found the Way
is my encouragement.
I take my refuge in the Dhamma. The Law
under-lying phenomena and its unchanging
certainty; the Law given by the Buddha to
show us the Way, the inevitable tendency to
Persistence in Motion or Rest—and
Persistence, even in Motion, negates change
in consciousness—these observed orders of
fact are our bases.
 SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM
I take my refuge in the Sangha.
These are not isolated efforts on my part;
although in one sense isolation is eternally
perfect and can never be overcome,1 in
another sense associates are possible and
desirable. One third of humanity are
Buddhists; add men of Science and we form
an absolute majority ; among Buddhists a
very large proportion have deliberately gone
out from social life of any kind to tread these
paths of Research.
Is the Way very hard? Is the brain tired?
The results slow to come? Others are
working, failing, struggling, crowned here
and there with rare garlands of success.
Success for ourselves, success for others; is
it not Compassion that binds us closer than
all earthly ties? Ay, in joy and in sorrow, in
weakness and in strength, do I take my
refuge in the Sangha.
XIII
CONCLUSION
Let me give a rapid resumé of what we
have gone through.
(a) We have stripped Science and
Buddhism of their accidental garments, and
administered a rebuke to those who so
swathe them.
(b) We have shown the identity of Science
and Buddhism in respect of:
(1) Their fact.
(2) Their theory.
(3) Their method.
(4) Their enemies.
(c) While thus admitting Buddhism to
be merely a branch of Science, we have
shown it to be a most important branch,
since its promise is to break down the walls
at which Science stops.
When Professor Ray Lankester has to
write, “The whole order of nature, including
living and lifeless matter—man, animal, and
1 1
i.e., on normal planes
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gas—is a network of mechanism, the main
features and many details of which have
been made more or less obvious to the
wondering intelligence of mankind by the
labour and ingenuity of scientific investi-
gators. But no sane man has ever pre-
tended, since science became a definite body
of doctrine, that we know or ever can hope
to know or conceive of the possibility of
knowing, whence this mechanism has come,
why it is there, whither it is going, and
what there may or may not be beyond and
beside it which our senses are incapable
of appreciating. These things are not
‘explained’ by science, and never can be,”
he gives a curious example of that quaint
scientific pride which knows the limits of
its powers, and refuses to entertain the hope
of transcending them. Unfortunately, he is
as one who, a hundred years ago, should
have declared any knowledge of the chemistry
of the fixed stars impossible. To invent
new methods, and to revolutionise the
functions of the senses by training or other-
wise is the routine work of to-morrow.1
But, alas ! he goes even further.
“Similarly we seek by the study of
cerebral disease to trace the genesis of the
phenomena which are supposed by some
physicists who have strayed into biological
fields to justify them in announcing the
‘discovery’ of ‘Telepathy’ and a belief
in ghosts.”
To talk of cerebral disease as the char-
acteristic of one who merely differs from
you (and that because he has more know-
ledge than yourself) is itself a symptom
familiar to alienists. (I may say I hold no
brief for Professor Lodge, here attacked.
I am not even interested in any of his
results, as such of them as I am acquainted
with deal with objective and trivial pheno-
mena.)
Of course, as long as what Darwin called
variation is called disease by Professor Ray
Lankester, we shall (if we accept his views,
See note p. 98
 SCIENCE AND BUDDHISM

and it will go hard with us if we do not !)
regard all progress in any direction as
morbid. So (as with Lombroso) “disease”
will become a mere word, like its prede-
cessor “infidelity,” and cease to carry any
obloquy.
If Science is never to go beyond its
present limits; if the barriers which meta-
physical speculation shows to exist are never
to be transcended, then indeed we are
thrown back on faith, and all the rest of the
nauseous mess of medieval superstition,
and we may just as well have vital principle
and creative power as not, for Science
cannot help us. True, if we do not use
all the methods at our disposal! But we
go beyond. We admit that all mental
methods known are singularly liable to
illusion and inaccuracy of any sort. So
were the early determinations of specific
heat. Even biologists have erred. But to
the true scientist every failure is a stepping-
stone to success; every mistake is the key to
a new truth.
And the history of our Science is the
history of all Science. If you choose to ape
Christendom and put the pioneers of
rational investigation into the nature of
consciousness on the rack (i.e. into lunatic
asylums) I doubt not we shall find our
Bruno. But it will add an additional pang
that persecution should come from the
house of our friends.
Let us, however, turn away from the
aspect of criticism which an accidentla
controversy has thus caused me to notice,
and so to anticipate the obvious line of
attack which the more frivolous type of
critic will employ, and return to our proper
business, the summary of our own position
with regard to Buddhism.
Buddhism is a logical development of
the observed facts; whoso is with me so far
is Sammaditthi, and has taken the first step
on the Noble Eightfold Path.
Let him aspire to knowledge, and the
Second Step is under his feet.
The rest lies with Research.

Aum ! I take my refuge holy in the Light and Peace of Buddh.

Aum ! I take my refuge, slowly working out His Law of Good.
Aum ! I take my refuge lowly in His Pitying Brotherhood.

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